


Service to the Crown

by ever_enthralled



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Violence, Bodyguard, Childhood Friends, Dragons, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Magic, Mutual Pining, Princess!Reader, Slow Burn, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, author not knowing a damn thing about fantasy, but not suPER graphic, guard!reiner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25796800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ever_enthralled/pseuds/ever_enthralled
Summary: Reiner would protect his princess until his last, dying breath.
Relationships: Reiner Braun/Reader
Comments: 26
Kudos: 484
Collections: The Smut Pile Fantasy AU Collection for My Hero Haikyuu and Attack on Titan





	Service to the Crown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnastasiaNoelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnastasiaNoelle/gifts), [partyhatstrider](https://archiveofourown.org/users/partyhatstrider/gifts).



> This is part of the _Pleasant & Strider Present: The Smut Pile_ Fantasy AU writing collab. Check out our tumblrs, pleasantanathema, linestrider, and/or present-mel to find the full masterlist of pieces! I'm very happy to have been a part of this.
> 
> **key:** _every crown is a time-skip_ | Reiner - ♔ | Reader - ♕ |

♔

Boots echo off the flagstone as two males walk through the long, castle corridor, one much larger and older than the other.

“Listen, boy. You’re to stay on your best behavior through this meeting, understand?” Reiner nods, setting his jaw firmly. “This is the king we’re speaking with. The _king_.” As if he doesn’t understand. Reiner may still be young, but he knows how mighty his leader is and respects it.

Still, he can’t help but add, “ _And_ , the princess.”

“What?” Captain Magath squints down at him.

“We’re meeting with the princess too, aren’t we?” Reiner elaborates. He was told vaguely that she is why this coming-together is happening in the first place, but of course, Magath only wants to focus on King Erwin.

The man grunts, clamps a hand down on Reiner’s shoulder and steers him around the corner. “Yes, all the more reason to stay decent. Now, remember to bow to the king first, then the lady. Don’t speak unless spoken to. No daydreaming, no boasting, _no embarrassing your captain_ , got it?”

Reiner nods, staying silent despite wanting to ask why Magath is acting as if he’s the village idiot rather than the top-ranked boy in the training course. There aren’t many, only five in total, but after lagging behind for two years, Reiner not only caught up to the others but also passed all of them in both strength and skill.

“I understand, sir.”

“Good, now straighten up.” The palm of Magath’s hand rams into the small of Reiner’s back, causing him to go rigid as they come to a pair of large oak doors. One is already halfway open, and they have no problem slipping inside the massive room. It’s midday, sunlight shining through the floor to ceiling glass on one side and bathing the space in yellow. Silhouetted at an ornate desk is the man Reiner easily recognizes as King Erwin, surprisingly casual in a nice tunic, riding britches, and high boots. His crown is nowhere in sight, but his blue eyes are set on a different thing of beauty, you—a young girl just a few paces away from where he sits, standing on your tiptoes as you try to grab a book on a shelf that’s just slightly out of reach.

“Darling, they’re here,” his baritone voice gets your attention, and you whirl around to face Reiner and Magath who quickly shoves him into a bow. “This is the boy?” King Erwin questions. The hand on the back of Reiner’s neck lets up, allowing him to rise and meet his leader’s firm gaze.

“Yes, my lord. Reiner Braun, aged twelve, top of his class,” Magath outlines. Reiner looks between the two older men for a moment before his eyes flick to you, also watching the adults curiously.

“Very nice to meet you, Reiner,” King Erwin speaks directly to him, making Reiner stand at full attention once again. “Do you know why Captain Magath brought you here today?”

“No, Your Majesty,” he answers honestly. “But I’m happy to serve you any way I can.” Reiner glances to Magath for a split second, seeking reassurance. Was that the right thing to say? Now that he’s actually right in front of him, Reiner sees just how intimidating the king is.

Magath gives a barely noticeable nod at the same time King Erwin breaks into warm laughter. “Oh, I appreciate that, boy, but I haven’t brought you here to serve _me_.” He motions to you, rocking back and forth on your feet as you watch the exchange. “I’d like for you to serve my daughter.”

This takes Reiner by surprise. He blinks up at the man before him then tilts his head to stare at you, accidentally thinks out loud when he murmurs, “The Princess…”

“Yes, the princess. She’s coming to an age where she needs protection. Do you think you can do that, Reiner?”

Reiner is stock stiff again, shoulders back, chest puffed out as he nods with resolve fierce for a boy of his years. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Protect the princess. He’s been _chosen_. What an honorable duty. His mother is going to be so proud of him.

“Wonderful. Darling, would you like to introduce yourself?” Your father beckons you, and you pad over, long gown swaying with each step until you stop in front of Reiner and curtsy. Then, you’re offering a dainty hand and telling him your name.

“You must train really hard for Father to have picked you…”

“I, um…” Reiner swallows, mouth suddenly dry. His face feels oddly hot, not a sensation he particularly enjoys or understands. “I try.” He doesn’t know what else to say, but something on the bookshelf behind you catches his eye, and he quickly redirects both your attention to it: “What were you trying to reach when me and the captain walked in?”

“The captain and I,” Magath immediately corrects as if he’s Reiner’s tutor, though it’s lost on both children in the room, only earning an amused chuckle from the king.

“Oh,” you look over your shoulder and pout. “A book. It has gold writing on it, and I wanted to look at it…”

“Have my duties started, King Erwin?” Reiner quickly asks, and the blond behind the desk nods with an easy smirk. Turning back to you, Reiner shows his friendliest grin and offers, “I bet I can get it for you.”

Your face lights up, tiny fingers immediately curling around Reiner’s as you lead him to the shelf and point—“See it? Just up there.” Reiner does see it, is almost at eye level considering he’s nearly a head taller than you. You must be a few years younger than him, or perhaps just small for your age.

Once pulled from its spot, Reiner looks over the leather-bound text, eyes the gold scrawl of the title but frowns when he can’t actually understand it. “It's in a different tongue,” he comments.

You nod happily, holding your hands out for the tome, then say matter-of-factly, “It’s Marleyan. Father knows it and says I need to know it one day too.”

King Erwin motions for it, a quiet, “Let’s see, give it here.” You give him the book first then allow your father to hoist you on to his lap. Reiner makes his way back over to Captain Magath, standing still and straight as the king multitasks between helping you sound out unfamiliar words and listing off what he expects of Reiner—the proper way to address and treat you, where Reiner will be required to accompany you and where he will not be _allowed_ to, and at the end of his spiel, Reiner is surprised and very excited to find that he will actually be compensated for his services to the crown. He’ll finally be able to help provide for himself, a relief since his mother is just barely getting by. 

"Don't look so pleased with yourself, boy," Magath admonishes when they eventually end their meeting. "You aren't getting paid nearly as much as the real guards."

Reiner didn't expect to get paid _anything_ , though, so any amount of wages is an improvement from nothing. He tells the captain this as they make their way to the training grounds, and it elicits a haughty scoff from the man. 

"Suppose you're right," the captain concedes, though he's still wearing that irritating smirk. "Now, make sure to remind yourself of your precious wages when the little princess is acting foolish. She's bound to. Every woman does until a man comes and puts her in her place."

Reiner rolls his eyes, Magath's words rubbing him the wrong way, but he still cracks a smile and mouths off, "You know as my duty to guard the princess, I can't have anyone speaking badly of her, sir." 

Magath snorts, tousles Reiner's hair, then shoves him toward the small door that leads to the castle courtyard.

♔

"Just let us see it! Come on!" Eren whines, shouldering past Bertholdt and Marcel in order to get closer to Reiner and, more importantly, the sheathed blade at his hip.

"Don't make a fuss," Reiner tells the excitable boy, slightly peeved. "It's only a dagger."

"Yes, but it's a dagger from the king's blacksmith. He makes swords for _knights!"_

Annoyed as Reiner is acting, he still feels pride well up inside of him. Captain Magath had handed the weapon of interest off to the new young guard early this morning claiming that King Erwin had it commissioned specifically for him. It even has the royal coat of arms engraved on the pommel. This is by far the most valuable thing Reiner owns, hence the hesitance to let the other trainees put their hands on it. 

"You can look, but don't touch," he finally agrees, pulling the dagger out to show the boys, delighting in the way their jaws drop. 

"D-do you think you'll ever have to u-use it?" Bertholdt asks, looking a little queasy. 

Reiner shrugs, his own gaze focused on the way the sun is reflecting off the polished steel. "If I have to, I have to. They gave it to me for a reason, right?" 

"It's so sharp!" Eren exclaims, reaching out like he's going to prick his finger on the point of the blade before Reiner pulls it away to sheathe once again. "Bet it'll slice right through a man's gut no problem!" 

"Have you even mastered wielding a sword yet?" Jean questions with a raised eyebrow and knowing smile as he stands behind the other three boys.

Reiner squints at him. "It's not a sword. It's a dagger."

"Good thing. You'd probably end up accidentally hurting your _precious princess_ if they gave you anything bigger."

Marcel is quick to redirect the conversation before the boys can start arguing, shifting so that he’s more or less directly between Jean and Reiner and asking the blond, “So, what is it like--being the princess’ guard?”

“Yeah, do you take all your meals with her and King Erwin now?”

“Are you to go with when they travel?”

“What about your traini--”

Reiner waves his hands as he laughs. “One at a time, lads, one at a time.” He’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good to have his friends so captivated. After fighting tooth and nail to keep up with them for his first two years, this is something worth basking in. 

He answers their questions as confidently as he can, but the truth is that he’s still getting used to his new duties, having only been guarding you for a little over a fortnight. 

So far Reiner has not shared any meals with your family, instead standing outside with the other adult guards so he can keep an eye on anyone who passes. He has been told that he will be expected to travel with you whenever you leave the castle, whether it’s to go to a nearby village or the neighboring kingdom. Reiner is to have his eyes on you at all times. 

Lastly, he is still training, just not at the same time as the other boys. His mornings start earlier than before and his evenings stretch on later, but he doesn’t mind. Though he doesn’t talk about it often, Reiner wants nothing more than to become a knight, and being that he isn’t from a noble family, taking care of the princess and working his arse off in training seems like a good way to reach his goal. 

Of course, there will be obstacles other than his heritage, Reiner knows, and the biggest might just be you. In the short amount of time he’s known you, he has discovered a few very important things about you.

 **1.** You are much more mischievous than you look.  
**2.** You’re too smart for your age.  
**3.** Reiner cannot trust you when you tell him, _“I just want to go for a walk,”_ or, _“The cooks won’t mind, promise.”_

No, you are a little deviant. But, you’re a very sweet deviant which poses an entirely different problem that he’d rather not think about any time soon.

“Well, it’s time I got back,” Reiner says, motioning to the servants’ entrance to the castle, thinking to himself as he walks— _need to make sure she isn’t up to anything that’s going to get her into trouble._

And, of course, you are.

♕

The streets are crowded as the small convoy makes its way through town on horseback. You’re seated behind Reiner, hands clutching the back of his tunic, grateful that your father has (begrudgingly) allowed you to forego your usual ladylike attire in favor of clothes more suitable for travel. He isn’t happy with you for not sitting side-saddle, but your improved balance makes up for any and all of the irritated and judgmental looks you’re receiving, both from your father and from the general public.

Still, there are many people who are extremely happy to see you, shopkeepers and children dashing into the road in order to wave and cheer. The royal family, though not as complete as it once was when your mother was still alive, is quite popular within the kingdom, your father being a stern but very kind leader, always looking for ways to better protect and provide for his people. Now aged eleven, you’re finally beginning to acknowledge and appreciate everything he does.

Your father grins placidly, nodding and waving at some. You cringe at how many women blush and swoon, but you suppose, objectively speaking, he is a handsome man. The king isn't the only man getting more than just a passing glance, though. Levi, your father's personal guard also catches a few stares despite being rather small, and even Reiner earns himself a couple flirty winks from young girls. You may or may not grip onto him a little tighter, doing your best to stare over his shoulder to the road ahead rather and pull ugly faces at his admirers. 

You see it, though, why he's getting the attention. Thirteen now, Reiner is beginning to grow into himself. His face is still round with youth, but his arms and chest are built with muscle from years of training. Though his expression is more often than not set into a serious scowl, when he does smile, it's almost wolfish— broad and confident. 

Your pubescent attraction to him is probably just a passing fancy, though, one you'll forget about when your father begins suggesting appropriate matches for you in the coming years. And besides, handsome as Reiner may be and as well as you get along, he also has the capacity to be _extremely_ annoying, always getting in the way of your harmless pranks and insisting on going with you _everywhere_. Yes, it's his job to make sure you don't get into trouble, but you're sure you can get along without him constantly by your side. 

A shrill voice pulls you from your pouting, and you look down and to the side to see a young girl hopping and waving up at you. 

"Princess! Princess! I have something for you!" 

You can already see that there's a flower clutched in her hand, pink petals wilting from the rough handling, but she looks overjoyed at the chance to share it with you. It warms your heart. 

"Stop for a moment," you tell Reiner. 

He looks over his shoulder at you with a frown. "No." 

Raising your eyebrows, you try to reach around him for the reins. "I said stop."

"And, I said no," he reiterates, shifting this way and that to block your arms. "You know King Erwin doesn't want you on the ground in crowded places."

You almost roll your eyes, then remember the strategy that almost always works on Reiner. Staring at him with wide, hopeful eyes, you try again in a softer voice, "Please, Rei, I'll just be a moment."

He snorts, shakes his head. "Not this time, Princess."

Squinting now, you purse your lips for just a moment before shrugging, "Fine, then," then somewhat ungracefully slide off his horse, landing hard on the dusty ground. 

"Oh, good god," the guard groans, immediately pulling on the reins to stop the animal. "Why do you insist on…"

You don't hear whatever else he says as you make your way back to the little girl. She looks ecstatic, bouncing even more than before then shoving the flower toward you as you near. Who you assume to be her mother is standing nearby, hands over her mouth in awe, but you can still tell she's smiling by the wrinkles around her eyes. 

"Hello," you greet, once again thankful you're in tights so that you can easily kneel before her. "What's your name?" 

"Philippa," she answers bashfully.

You take the flower from her and hold it to your nose despite the fragrance being almost entirely gone. 

"Well, thank you, Philippa." When she nods, a little, blonde ringlet falls into her face, and as you move to brush it away for her, you begin to tell her, "You're very pre—" but are cut off. 

It happens very fast. One moment you're in front of the girl, and the next there's a strong tug around your waist. For a split second, you assume it's Reiner, but he usually isn't so rough. 

Then you hear panicked curses and gasps as you're hoisted up, much higher than Reiner could ever lift you, and it dawns on you that you are in _danger_. 

"Wait, let me— _ah!"_

You're thrown over a thick shoulder, your face coming very close to crashing into this stranger's back, but you catch yourself, begin pounding on flesh with closed fists as they run. You get a few solid kicks into what feels like a large stomach, but it has no effect as the thug barrels other people over to get somewhere safe. 

For the first time possibly in your entire life, you feel painful, gut-wrenching fear. You did this to yourself, though. This is your fault. Your father has warned you every time you go into town that it can be dangerous, that there are people out there who want to hurt you just because of who you are, who _he_ is. You just never thought anything like this would actually happen. 

Lifting your head, you catch sight of many shocked faces as the townsfolk cry in outrage. Then you see a break in the crowd, three bodies hurtling toward you—your father and Levi with Reiner at least two strides ahead looking _furious_. 

Your kidnapper must glance behind him and see them getting closer. His grip on you tightens, one arm locked around the backs of your thighs while a large hand clamps down on your back. 

Reiner suddenly darts off to the side, leaving your line of vision, and it causes a sob to bubble up from your chest. You reach a hand out for your father as you slip into the shade of an alleyway, crying as he stretches out his own long arm, but the distance between the two of you is too great. People are still screaming on the main road, their shouts echoing off the structures around you getting quieter the further back the man runs. 

He comes to a very abrupt stop, though, feet skidding in a murky puddle, and you feel him almost lose his balance. 

"Move, boy!" He shouts, voice loud, gravelly, and unfamiliar. 

"Drop her now!" _Reiner_. He must have gone down a different alleyway to cut him off. The relief that washes over you is indescribable. Though you're still in the criminal's grasp, you feel safe, especially as your father and Levi approach. 

"Do you know how much gold I could get—"

"I said let go of her!" 

"Gold means nothing when you're locked in a dungeon," Levi speaks, sounding almost bored. His hand is on the hilt of his sword, but for some reason, he hasn't drawn it. 

The man twirls around to face the small guard, your arms swinging out as he does. Then, there's the sound of boots sliding on dirt, a harsh exhale, and a sharp pain toward the inside of your left thigh where your captor is gripping you tightest. 

He screams, dropping you completely, and the wind is knocked from your lungs when you land on your side. There's something warm and wet on your leg, seeping into your tights and making them stick to your skin. You hiss and sit up only to scramble backward on your palms when you see four severed fingers on the ground close to you. 

"By the bones of—" the man dissolves into a pained moan, clutching his injured hand to his chest as it gushes blood. Your stomach rolls with nausea, but you're still able to crawl over to your father who quickly places you directly between himself and Levi. 

"You devil!" He spits at Reiner. "I'm just trying to feed my kin!" 

"If they're anything like you, they won't mind eating your body once I've slit your _throat_ ," the young guard growls, his short sword bloodied and very close to the man’s neck. Your eyes widen at the threat. You've never heard Reiner speak like this before. 

Levi takes a few steps forward and kicks the man's legs out from under him then knees him in the face, breaking his nose. Weak and in pain, the thug stumbles toward the mouth of the alley, Levi shoving him forward but staying close enough behind to take him down again should he need to. 

Your father is about to pick you up, but before he can, Reiner steps forward, face flushed with exertion as well as what you learn is shame when he tells his king, "I—I accidentally cut her. Let me carry her, Your Majesty—so it won’t soil your clothes." 

The burning on your thigh makes sense now. It's blood that's plastering your pants to your skin. 

Your father places a hand on top of Reiner's head then moves it down to his shoulder. "I won't fault you for it," he smiles softly then nods down at you. "Go ahead and carry your damsel to safety."

You want to scoff and argue with your father, but there are still tears streaming down your face, and when you try to stand on your own, your legs shake and threaten to buckle. 

Reiner lifts and cradles you to his chest without a problem, and like that, you all make your way back to the horses where Levi secures the criminal to his horse with iron cuffs and a thick rope. This time, you sit in front of Reiner, his arms caging you in as he reaches around to hold the reins. You don't mind though, feeling safe so close to him. 

"I'm sorry for hurting you," he tells you quietly, probably feeling guilty as you wince through the ride. 

"The cut isn’t deep," you reassure him because it truly isn’t, but it _is_ painful as it rubs against the horse’s side. "Besides, I'd be much worse off if you hadn't gotten to me."

He grunts behind you, and the two of you go silent again until Reiner finds his voice again. “I told you not to get off the horse.”

You turn as far as you can so that he can see your narrowed eyes. “Yes, I know. I learned my lesson. Believe me.”

Reiner smirks, looking much more like himself. He must finally be coming down from that rush. “Does that mean you’ll actually listen to me now?”

Chuckling, you look back ahead, muttering, “Probably not,” just loud enough for him to hear.

The two of you make it back to the castle by yourselves, your father and Levi having broken away around sunset in order to visit a well-known wise-woman who happened to live in the dark woods on the outskirts of a nearby village. Her remedies are said to be unmatched throughout the land, and though many people remain wary of her, your father has kept her safe from prosecution after she helped ease your mother’s passing. 

“It’s likely they won’t return until dawn,” Reiner says as he helps you dismount, moving to pick you up again, but you brush him off. 

“I think I can walk now. Just might have to lean on you a bit.”

He helps you through the corridors and up the spiral stairs to your sleeping quarters, meeting your chambermaid, Historia, along the way. Reiner quickly explains what happened then tells her to find Captain Magath, and when she rushes off, he tells you, “Your leg needs to be looked at, and the captain has practiced in basic medicine due to how often we get hurt in training.”

You don’t argue with him, though you are slightly mortified when Magath arrives—looking extremely alarmed—and tells you to take your tights off so he can assess the damage. Historia shoos Reiner out of the room but stays inside herself which does well to keep you calm. 

“Doesn’t look to need stitches,” the man hums, moving to the side so that Historia can pat down the laceration with a wet cloth. “Some healing salve will go a long way, though.”

“Father is already trying to get some. He and his guard are on their way to the wise-woman Hange right now.”

“Hm, good.”

For the night, all that can be done is for them to clean and bandage your leg. When they’re done and you’re dressed in a nightgown, Reiner returns with a bowl in his hand that he holds out to you. 

“It’s just porridge, what the servants ate tonight, but it’s something.”

“Thank you.” 

He stays with you as you eat, remaining silent as he stares down at his boots. You don’t have much to say either—still a little in shock, sore from being jostled around, and, most importantly, very grateful to Reiner. You just don’t know how to express any of it.

After you’ve finished eating Reiner takes your bowl and goes to fetch Historia again. The little blonde helps you get settled and ready for bed, making sure you're comfortable as she tells you about her day, her pleasant little voice lulling you into a drowsy state, and eventually, you drift off to sleep. 

You wake in the early morning hours to your father’s voice echoing just outside your door. He sounds tired but warm as ever when you hear him ask, “Did you sleep out here all night?”

You can’t help but smile sleepily when Reiner responds, his own words thick with fatigue, “I just wanted to stay close by in case the princess needed me.”

♕

A war breaks out when you’re twelve. The kingdom on the other side of the sea, Marley, invades your homeland, attempting to claim it for themselves. The Eldian army fights back, every knight, guard, and capable man brandishing a blade to defend their land.

You are beside yourself as you stay in the castle. The two people you hold dearest are out on the battlefield—your father and Reiner, and you can’t help but brace yourself for the day the messenger comes back to the castle to inform you one or both have fallen.

Neither of them do. The Eldians push the enemy back to the sea and send them home with less than a third of the people they arrived with. The Marleyans aren’t the only ones who suffered loss, though. Eldia may have won the war, but it will take time for the kingdom to recover from it economically as well as from a population standpoint. 

You wait at the castle gates for the return of the soldiers, jump for joy when you see your father leading them all. His face is paler than usual and smudged with dirt, and instead of the armor he left in, he’s in basic riding clothes. Most noticeable is the way his right sleeve is tied in a knot, red painting the beige material. 

He’s flanked by Levi and Sir Miche, and just behind them is Reiner, gaze trained straight ahead and eventually finding you as he rides forward slowly. You sigh in both relief and sadness, tears welling up in your eyes. You have no idea what he’s been through, what any of them have been through, but you know none of them will ever be the same. 

Your father dismounts his steed, passing his reins to Levi and trusting he’ll get it back to the stables. Then he’s rushing toward you, holding his remaining arm out for a hug, and you launch yourself at him, weeping into his shoulder and clutching desperately at his tunic. 

“I was so scared,” you cry. 

“I know, darling.” He holds your head to his chest and rocks back and forth. “I’m back now.”

You both stay like that for some time until you're able to compose yourself. Your father wipes your face with a shaky hand, and you can tell that he's fatigued, definitely needs rest and medical attention. The castle's messenger must send for a healer as soon as possible. 

With the help of a couple servants, you're able to get your father into his quarters and leave him for a short time to allow him to bathe in peace. As he washes, you go down to the kitchens, already bustling with movement as several cooks ready a feast for the soldiers who've made it back. At their allowance, you take some of the already prepared food to bring to your father, knowing he'll be too tired to attend the celebration. 

When you return to his chamber, your father is already in his large bed, lost to a light slumber, though his face is still pinched as if in pain. One look at his arm shows he's in new bandages, but there's fresh blood staining the cloth. That worries you. 

"Father," you give him a gentle shake. He needs sleep, yes, but he also needs to eat—probably hasn't had a decent meal in weeks. 

He stirs, slowly opening his blue eyes and focusing them on you then the bowl in your hands. 

"Here. Eat some, and then you can sleep." 

Humming in agreement, your father moves to sit up, making a low noise of discomfort that makes you uneasy. He's always been invincible in your eyes, an unbreakable wall. Obviously, that isn't true. He may be the strongest man you know, but he's still human. 

You hold the bowl out to him only to pull it back when you see how badly his hand trembles as he reaches for it. 

"I can just…" you try to scoot closer, getting ready to simply feed him yourself—it isn't a bother, you'd do anything for him—but your father shakes his head firmly. 

"No. I won't have my daughter spoon-feeding me like I'm—" 

"Erwin." 

Both of you turn at the new voice, find Levi standing in the doorway. He shakes his head in a disapproving way that would get most people thrown into an underground cell, but Levi has always been a little special. 

The guard strides over to you and gently takes the bowl, his stare unwavering as he tells you, "I've got it. Go find Reiner. He's looking for you."

You glance to your father, but he only sighs, unable to meet your gaze for the first time in your life. Thanking Levi, you slip from the chamber, obeying when he tells you to please close the door. Your gut is tight with worry, but for now, you try to focus on something other than your injured father. 

It takes you a while to track Reiner down. You check the servants' quarters first, thinking he might be talking with Historia or Annie, then the dining hall where the other soldiers are gathered, but it's in the stables that you finally find him. He's feeding his horse, petting it with his other hand, but he stops when he sees you. 

Blinking hardened amber eyes at you, Reiner lets out a slow exhale before greeting you. "Princess."

Your mouth twitches up in a tiny smile. It feels like a lifetime has passed since you've heard your title in that tone, the guard somehow managing to make it sound respectful and condescending at the same time. 

"Reiner."

Then, he's showing that broad grin and darting around the horse. He grabs you around the middle and lifts you off the ground, swaying on his feet as he squeezes you. You hug him tightly, resting your cheek against his and sniffing when you feel that heat behind your eyes again. 

"I'm so glad you're safe," you tell him honestly. 

The two of you may spend the majority of your time together teasing and arguing, but at this point, Reiner is your best friend. There's no other way to put it. Even if it wasn't his job to keep you safe, you'd still be attached at the hip. 

He sets you back down and steps back—"I am too," —gives you the chance to really look at him up close. 

On the surface, he appears the same as when he left, but there are subtle differences you easily notice—the dullness in once bright eyes and the set of his jaw, like he's still gritting his teeth even though the battle is over. He looks older somehow too, strange considering he's still so young, only fourteen yet recruited to fight in a war. 

"How is your father?" He asks, eyebrows now furrowing in concern. 

You chew on your lip for a moment, looking at the straw covered ground when you answer, "Weak. And angry."

"I would be too," Reiner gruffs.

"Levi is with him now. Hopefully, he'll get some rest. I think tomorrow will be…" you pause for a moment to think. "A very telling day. Rico's already sent for a medic, so hopefully they'll be here by morning."

"Hopefully."

Your face must show every emotion you're feeling because Reiner gathers you into another hug to mutter reassurances in your ear, and as you stand there, you begin to think that maybe things will be fine.

That sense of security dwindles with the passing days. One of the kingdom’s few healers arrives at the castle and examines your father. The color has yet to return to his face, his stump is still bleeding, and his fever hasn't broken even once. There is an infection brewing inside of him, but the physician refuses to use leeches due to how much blood he’s already lost.

“Is there a successor to the crown?” The doctor asks you quietly after you’ve both stepped out of your father’s chamber.

Your jaw drops, heart pounding wildly in your chest because if he’s asking you that— “Is he going to die?”

“His blood has gone bad,” he tells you, expression carefully composed as to not give away any of his thoughts. 

You on the other hand— “Then _do_ something about it! What else can you—”

“There’s nothing else I can do, Princess. He suffered a great loss on the battlefield, and it’s now caught up to him. The best thing for him at this point is to just rest and let it—”

You barrel passed him back into the room. Levi is sitting on the foot of your father’s bed but spares you a cold, grey glance. He looks as if he knows, like he’s already accepted his king’s fate.

“Take me to the wise-woman,” you demand, trying to ignore the way your father is shivering under his blankets. 

Heaving a sigh, Levi murmurs your name followed by, “I think we just need to—”

“No. Take me to her. _Now_.”

The guard squints at you, obviously not liking being told what to do by anyone other than your father. Then, he tells you, voice low but stern, “I’m not leaving him alone.”

This gives you pause. You blink at him, trying to make sense of his disobedience until you realize it comes down to loyalty—devotion. Levi has always been by your father’s side, and he wants to stay there until the end. Your very blood screams at you to demand his respect, but your heart—your heart understands.

“Very well. I’ll go by myself.”

Levi shuts his eyes and nods, looking relieved, then informs you, “They’re just outside of Shiganshina village. You’ll be able to see the smoke from their hut above the trees. But take a guard with you.”

“Thank you.”

In your own chamber, you’re quick to rid yourself of your dress as Historia rifles through your clothes to retrieve a tunic and breeches. You pull both on then sit so she can work your boots on over your feet and calves. You thank her, pull the tiny servant to you in a tight hug, then rush out.

As if you’re emitting some kind of smoke signal, Reiner finds you as soon as you step into the courtyard. He takes one look before asking, “Where are we going?”

The ride to Shiganshina is rough and dusty. You arrive at the village as the sky takes on a pink hue then trot through until you reach the far side. On your own horse, you stare at the line of trees and the plume of smoke that rises above even the tallest branches. 

“You do know Shiganshina is the origin of most of our land’s myths, right?” Reiner questions, scanning every trunk in front of him like he’s going to find something inscribed on each. “The fae that terrorize naughty children and the man who can shift into a beast...”

“Do you feel at home among the monsters?” You tease, trying to get rid of the prickling sensation at the back of your neck.

“My true family,” Reiner snorts before sliding off his horse. “We should leave them here. The brush might get too dense for them to get through.”

He dutifully helps you to the ground, then takes your hand and pulls out his sword, looking every bit like an adventurer as he leads you into the forest. Leaves, twigs, and dying grass crunch under your boots. Birds chitter and squawk. A wolf howls in the distance. 

On any other day, you would be frightened, ready to turn back at every little noise and flash of movement, but you’re on a mission. You are here for a reason, and you have Reiner with you. He’d die before letting anything happen to you, you know. 

The sky fades from that light pink to deep red, purple, then eventually to navy. Walking is becoming perilous in the dark, and the further inward you travel, the more you hear of the creatures around you, their movements in your peripheral vision. Reiner’s grip on your hand is tight and sweaty, but you don’t resent it. In fact, you’re walking about as close to him as you can without tripping over his feet. 

When the hut comes into view, glowing orange from the inside, you both let out thankful praises and rush forward until you’re standing on the makeshift porch, frantically knocking on the door. 

“By the gods of—hold on, hold on! I’m coming!” You hear a shout followed by several heavy objects hitting the floor and some colorful swearing. 

Then the door flies open and you’re met with the sight of the wise-woman—brown hair tied up but still wild, eyes wide and manic behind strange spectacles. She’s in an animal pelt that does not cover much, leaveing Reiner blushing and looking away, and the strange necklace she’s wearing looks to be made out of bone. This does not seem like the harmless, herbal wise-woman you’ve heard so much about.

“H-Hange?” You try.

She lifts an eyebrow. “Who’s askin’?”

“Me—Um, the princess. My father—”

“King Erwin is dying,” Reiner cuts to the chase as he steps in front of you, obviously sensing your discomfort. “Can you help?”

Hange takes on a look of surprise, her mouth popping open as she blinks rapidly. “He’s… Dying?”

“The war took his arm, and he’s come down with fever and infection. Do you have anything—”

“Come in, come in!" She steps to the side and quickly motions for you to enter the hut, slamming the already questionably stable wooden door behind you. 

“Infection, you say?” She hums, finger to her chin.

You take the time to survey your surroundings, fall further and further into complete awe as you do. You’ve never seen a place like this before, and it becomes very clear that Hange truly isn’t an ordinary wise-woman (perhaps not a woman at all). Your father has been protecting her from persecution for a reason. If not for him, she’d surely have been burned at the stake by now.

The walls are lined with shelves full of all kinds of oddities—flasks of unknown liquid, crushed flowers, roots, and, if you’re not mistaken, fingernails. Bones similar to the ones she’s wearing hang from the ceiling like twisted wind-chimes, decorated with tokens of feathers and hair. Bound books are open on almost every surface you can see, most of the text in languages you don’t recognize and some with glowing letters. 

“Hange, what are—”

“Don’t ask what or who I am, child. You already know,” she quickly waves you off, standing on her tiptoes to retrieve a jar from the top of her warped bookcase. When her fingers only graze it, she whistles then calls out, “Moblit, help please!”

You clamp both hands over your mouth to stifle a shriek when something swoops down from the ceiling, a large, tawny bird that flies to the shelf and swiftly knocks the desired dish down into Hange’s waiting hands. 

“Thank you.”

The bird caws in response, then returns to its perch up above, watching with beady eyes as Hange moves around to gather ingredients. Each new thing she grabs somehow manages to be more disturbing than the last—a jelly of some sort, weeds, eyelashes —

“Please tell me those aren’t actually toes,” Reiner says. You meet each other’s questioning stares, trying and failing to hide grins of incredulity. Hange is known to be amazing at whatever it is she does. You just didn’t know that it was _this_. 

Uncapping the flask, Hange procures two shriveled, gray, _human_ toes and waves them in front of Reiner who takes a step back and gags. 

“They’re very good for getting people back on their feet. _Ha!_ Get it?”

Everything she needs is laid out on the table, a frankly horrifying assortment of herbs, unfamiliar fluids, and body parts. 

“Has he been conscious at all since getting back?” She asks, throwing a couple of her ingredients together and grinding them up using a mortar and pestle.

“He’s been in and out.”

“What’s his temperament like when he’s _in?_ ”

“Mm,” you think about the question. “It depends on what he’s doing. If he’s simply talking, he seems in high enough spirits, but if he needs to perform some kind of task, he gets upset.”

“Men,” Hange mutters with a small smirk. “Always want to do everything for themselves.”

And, that’s exactly it. Your father _does_ want to do things for himself, but he knows that won’t be possible, at least not for a while. 

Hange asks a few more questions, seems to base some of her portions off your answers. She mumbles to herself incessantly as she minces and grinds and stirs, and it takes some time before you realize she’s isn’t just mumbling; she’s chanting, and in a tongue you’ve never heard before. 

It’s a long process, but when she’s finally finished, she stores the putrid paste-like substance in a clean jar and shoves it at you. “I need to perform a ritual myself, so I’ll be returning to the castle with you.”

“O-oh.”

Wasting no time, Hange makes a vague gesture toward the bird and speaks to it again, “You’re in charge of things here, Mob. Try not to catch anything on fire.” It squawks back indignantly, fiercely flapping its wings until the three of you leave. 

You notice that Hange is barefoot, begin to tell her that the horses are all the way outside of the woods, but she doesn’t let you. Instead, she sheds her pelt, standing completely nude as she hands it to Reiner, then tells you both, “I’ll meet you there." 

Right before your eyes, the strange woman shifts—bones cracking, skin disappearing under a coat of fur, until you’re staring at a large brown wolf that huffs at you once then turns and runs into the woods.

“Well,” Reiner speaks, voice a little higher than usual. “I guess we know one of those myths is true after all, aside from it being said it’s a _man_ who turns into a beast.”

The shock and stress of the day causes hysterical laughter to bubble up from your chest as you grip the jar in your hands so tight it might crack. 

Man, woman, or animal—you’re not sure what category Hange might fall under. All you know is that they’re helping you, and you’re immensely grateful for it.

♔

When King Erwin recovers, much to the relief of the entire country, he makes three decisions.

The first is to bring Hange (and Moblit) to live within the castle walls. They’re too precious to leave unattended in the wilderness but will have the freedom to come and go as they please in order to gather supplies. It will also be much safer for them to practice their various magics in a place less flimsy and less _flammable_. 

The second is to make Reiner a squire. Typically, boys start training to be a knight earlier in life, but Reiner, being of common blood, was never offered the positions and experiences that the nobles of the land received. To have the king himself suggest he’s worthy of one day becoming a knight though… Well, it’s uncommon. Reiner should be elated, and he is. Mostly. But, being a squire means passing his duty as guard off to someone else, and that he is not happy about. 

“It’s been your dream this whole time, you _dalcop,_ ” you reminded him when Reiner had first voiced his concerns. 

He had snorted and shouldered into you gently. “Call me every name you want. You’re going to miss me not being around all the time.”

He begins working as Sir Miche’s squire at the turn of the seasons, when the leaves begin to brown and fall to the ground. This is around the same time the Duke of Trost and his son come to visit, the direct result of King Erwin’s third and possibly most important (and troubling) decision: he needs to find a successor.

His near death experience obviously has him rattled. He needs to find someone suitable to not only take the crown when his time truly comes but also someone to take your _hand_. The late queen had passed before she and King Erwin could conceive another child, meaning his family’s right to the throne will die with him unless another noble marries in and has a child with you.

So, as the days go by and Reiner trains, the castle is home to one hopeful visitor after another. Bertholdt takes over as your personal guard and keeps Reiner well-informed, though his friend often gives him a hard time about it.

“Why are you still so concerned with the princess? She isn’t yours to look after anymore.”

Bertholdt knows, and Reiner knows, but neither of them ever say it out loud. It’s a fruitless dream he’s harbored since he first took his post—really, since he first met you in your father’s office, grasping for that book that you just couldn’t reach. Reiner's affection for you has grown over time and still continues to blossom deep in his chest, threatening to choke him every time he sees you. 

And, that’s how the next few years pass. Every day feels longer than the last. Reiner doesn’t know if it’s because of the soreness in his body or that of his heart. He aches in ways no boy his age should, joints and muscles screaming from getting knocked on his ass over and over, from pushing himself so hard he thinks he might snap. 

And, at the same time, he yearns. To see you, to talk and joke, to go on rides through the tulip fields just north of the castle. He wants to be with you—all the time—has gotten used to it, and now that he isn’t constantly at your side, it feels like part of him is _missing_. 

Of course, Reiner keeps this to himself, distracts himself with training, tries to ignore the many horse-drawn carriages that pull up, Earls and Barons and all manner of pampered little boys here to court you. 

He sees you in passing sometimes, in the dining hall or maybe the garden behind the stables. You’re always so beautiful, your hair braided and pinned back, midday sun rays dancing off your skin as you walk beside whichever suitor you’re with.The gowns you have to wear around these boys—they’re pretty, yes, but Reiner likes you so much more when dressed to go riding or hunting with Hange, a cloak, tunic, and tights, ready to take on the world rather than rule it. You flash coy smiles and even laugh in some cases, placing dainty fingers over your mouth to keep your outbursts as hidden as possible.

You never had to hide with Reiner, could always laugh as loud and hard as you wanted, tears running down your face as you hit his chest to get him to stop acting foolish. Maybe Reiner just doesn’t like being reminded of how unattainable you are by your elegant dresses and self-conscious giggles, but he thinks most of his bias has to do with how much he detests seeing this watered-down version of you.

There’s a grand feast when Prince Floch of Hermina comes to visit, red hair coiffed, eyes half-lidded in boredom as he’s shown around the castle. Unimpressed or not, whenever he looks at you, he gives you a slimy smile. That’s what Bertl tells Reiner at least. 

“I’m only bringing vegetables back to you. You’re getting fat,” the brunet jabs at Reiner as he gets ready to join the gathering in the dining hall.

Reiner waves him off, doing his best to seem nonchalant despite wanting nothing more than to stomp in unannounced and tear you away from the snobby little prince. “I’m just putting on muscle, ya’ arse.”

Bertholdt raises his eyebrows. “I mean, I can’t really tell—”

“Go do your job!”

The taller guard leaves in a fit of quiet laughter, leaving Reiner to stew in the barracks. 

Would it be so bad if he just showed up? Would he get into trouble for it? He knows you would be happy to see him. It’s been a few weeks since the two of you last talked and—

Reiner shakes his head. He shouldn’t humor himself, shouldn’t _encourage_ himself. The sooner he can get rid of these feelings, the better, for both your sakes. 

Hours pass. Bertholdt eventually returns, dizzy from drinking and with a familiar servant girl, Annie, on his arm. Reiner wants to ask how the meal went, if Prince Floch made any progress with wooing you, but Bertholdt is much more interested in the blonde who’s trying and failing to hide her blush as his bold, drunken hands pull her onto his lap.

“Alright, mate, have fun,” Reiner says more to himself than his friend before making his way out of the barracks. 

The sky is dark and full of stars, just barely dulled by the lit sconces on the side of the castle. The feast is over. Everyone has probably retired for the night, and for some reason, that thought doesn’t sit well with Reiner. He sucks his teeth, glancing at the servants’ entrance, then strides over and enters. 

Hardly anyone is moving around, some cooks packaging leftover meat for their families and, in one of the upstairs corridors, Historia and Eren tip-toeing around, their fingers threaded together as they whisper excitedly about finding a vacant room. Reiner doesn’t say anything when he passes, just gives Eren a subtle nod and turns the corner. 

It’s quiet as he makes his way to your bedchamber, not sure what he plans to do other than simply stare at you, appreciate what he's been missing so badly. The older Reiner gets, the harder it is to talk to you, and now, aged eighteen, he may as well be mute. 

A little noise echoes from down the hall, a low grunt, the scuffling of shoes, and a muffled, “S-stop—I said—”

Reiner increases his pace. He knows that tone, yours, and can tell by the pitchy, breathless quality that you're distressed. 

He isn’t in any type of armor, but Reiner still has his sword at his hip, unsheathes it as he approaches swiftly. 

“Floch, get aw—”

“Oh, Princess, don’t fight.” 

The voice comes out saturated with arrogance, though it’s still strained from exertion, and when the Prince finally comes into Reiner’s line of sight, he knows why. The ginger fuck has you pinned to the stone wall, thin body pressed against yours with both of your wrists gripped in one hand. His other is pushing up your skirt as you wriggle in an attempt to get away, and Reiner…

Reiner sees _red_.

The tip of his blade is at Floch’s neck before he even realizes. How Reiner covered that much distance in such a short amount of time is beyond him, but he’s there, hot with anger, and when he speaks, it comes out as a growl. 

“Hands off, you swine.”

Reiner can hear the prince swallow as he immediately lets go of you. He’s careful not to move too much, Reiner’s sword already dangerously close to the thick artery in his neck, but Floch still manages to look at Reiner from the corner of his eyes.

“Easy now, guard. I meant no harm.”

Blood is pounding in Reiner’s ears, making it hard to hear, hard to _think_. It would be so easy, _so easy_ to get rid of the worthless prince, maybe even make it look like an accident. 

There are words on the tip of Reiner’s tongue, threats and curses and pure venom, but none of them come out. All he does is glare and keep his sword poised at Floch’s throat. 

Then, you knee him straight in the groin, causing the prince to yelp and double over. If Reiner was any slower, he would have ended up gutting the boy like a pig, but he’s able to pull his blade back just in time. You take advantage of Floch’s weakened state, stepping out from between him and the wall and dashing to stand behind Reiner. 

“A threat against the royal family is enough to get you beheaded,” Reiner spits down at the prince, now on his knees and holding himself. “Or shall I cut off your _other_ head instead?” He points his sword at the vulnerable area Floch’s shaking hands are covering, smirks when he trembles in fear. 

“N-no, please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

Tutting behind Reiner, you take hold of his arm and speak just loud enough to hear, “Probably not much to cut anyway.” Then, you’re tugging him away and leading him to your bedchamber, reassuring him, “I’ll tell father about it in the morning. We can leave him to fend for himself tonight.”

Reiner sheathes his sword and happily follows you, closes your heavy door once you’re both inside your room, and then he’s laughing almost painfully hard as you go over every cringe-worthy moment you’ve had to spend with the young prince, how his hand was far too soft and clammy when he tried to hold yours, how the flowers in the garden made him sneeze, the way he went green after two sips of wine then tried to play it off as having a nervous stomach around you. 

“And, the whole time I knew—I _knew_ there was something odd about him! I didn’t think he would _assault_ me, but gods, he’s a strange one. So thank you,” you breathe, holding your hands over your heart as you look at Reiner with humorous though very genuine appreciation. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown yourself.”

“I mean, he isn’t very big, and obviously a well placed kick to—” Reiner motions to _himself_ causing you chuckle and blush and Reiner to grin crookedly, “—Is enough to take him down.”

“He’s still bigger than me. And," you make a disgusted face. “He was holding my leg so tightly. It hurt.”

Reiner frowns. “Let me see. How bad?”

You wave him off but still move to sit on the edge of your bed, neither of you thinking much of it as you begin to lift the side of your gown until nearly your entire thigh is exposed. 

Suddenly, Reiner is stepping back and swallowing thickly as his face grows hot. “Uh, I can—Historia—She should look at it instead.”

“Right,” you agree, looking rather embarrassed yourself. 

It’s a strange feeling being so comfortable with someone that improprieties disappear, even if just for a moment. Clearly, you both come to your senses at just the right time, but… Reiner wishes you hadn’t. If you had allowed him to run his fingers over your skin, to map you like the uncharted territory you are. He would do so with such care, such gentleness, with his hands, his mouth. Just one taste after so many years…

You’re close to marrying age, but when you do finally wed another, it won’t be Reiner. It never could be. 

“I should— Well, I shouldn’t be—” Reiner tries to find the right words, an easy way to dismiss himself, but he just can’t.

And, even if he could, you wouldn’t let him, blatantly changing the subject to something more appropriate when you ask, “How is your training going?” Reiner is surprised at the clear invitation for him to stay and talk. “Sir Miche is renowned in the land. I’m sure you’re learning a lot from him.”

Nodding, Reiner gets more comfortable, lowering himself to the stone floor and sitting cross-legged. You do the same, only you stretch your legs out, crossing them at the ankle and massaging your sore thigh as Reiner tells you about what his days are like now, the differences in regiments and schedules, and after endless chatter between the late evening and the wee hours of the morning, he admits, “I miss you.”

Your smile is slow to grow on your delicate face, starting off as something small and shy then turning to a wide, lopsided grin that makes Reiner’s stomach flip. 

“I miss you, too.”

♕

Your 18th birthday is one the entire kingdom will remember. The castle is filled with not only other nearby nobility, but many of the common people, all gathered to celebrate you. You’re finally wedding age, and though your father put a halt on bringing in every Earl, Baron, and Prince around, there are still many lined up, ready and waiting. After what happened with Prince Floch, your father became much more selective in terms of possible successors. This joyous occasion is the first time in over a year that he tells you to _keep an open mind._

You’re not at all interested in any of your guests, though. Yes, you humor the little girls from the villages, let them put flowers in your hair and hold their hands as you sway to the music, but every time you’re asked for a dance by one of the many pampered young men, you barely pay them any attention. Your body may be close to these strangers’, but your eyes are always focused elsewhere.

Reiner is standing at attention against the wall by the hall’s entrance, so handsome in his simple leather armor, hand on the hilt of his sword as if he’s ready to shed blood at the tiniest transgression. His blond hair is mussed as always, sticking up haphazardly and curling at the ends. His strong jaw is set, beautifully angled and covered in stubble. And, his _eyes_ , like liquid gold, glowing from across the room as he watches you. You wonder if the Duke you’re dancing with can feel your heartbeat reverberating in his own chest, if he’ll think your frantic pulse is because of him.

It isn’t, and it never will be. Because your body, mind, and soul belong to another. They always have; it was foolish to ever pretend otherwise. What you once thought was a passing fancy has morphed into something so much more: the almost oppressive weight of love. It fills up every empty space inside of you, leaves you stretched to the point of bursting, and you want to shout it, want to sing your adoration for the whole kingdom—no—the _world_ to hear. You are in love with Reiner Braun, and you are not ashamed at all.

But that doesn’t mean you can let it come to be.

You thought you would be able to keep your affections a secret, but it didn’t take long for your father to catch on. In fact, he’d known about them even before you, and it wasn’t until recently that he told you one of the reasons he was so eager to send Reiner to train with Sir Miche was to put distance between the two of you.

_“He’s a respectable man, darling, but he can’t be the one for you. You know that.”_

While the forced distance had kept you more or less separated for a couple of years, it wasn’t enough. You bonded through it and grew even closer than before, and now you think… You think there’s a chance Reiner might be having the same internal battle that you are.

The way he looks at you sometimes, the way he’s looking at you _now_ , is intense, heady, like all he desires is to be alone with you, away from any prying eyes or bothersome nobles. You want the same so badly, but you don’t know how to tell him, or even if you should. It could get him into trouble.

You just can't imagine a life married to anyone other than him. How are you to stay faithful to a husband while Reiner is in _your_ army fighting for _you?_ It’s what he’s been doing for most of his life and one of the many reasons you’re so devoted to him. The thought of only seeing him in passing while belonging to another, sharing a bed with anyone else—

Not that you’ve shared a bed with Reiner, but… The idea has been there, invading your mind night after night. He’s grown up so well, aged twenty years now, tall and broad and cut with muscle. The servant girls all gawk and giggle at him, waving their tiny, dirty hands when he passes through the courtyard. You think that maybe he’s indulged in some of them once or twice, and while the idea makes you sick to your stomach, you understand. He’s a man, after all, and he isn’t promised to you the way you wish you were to him.

But on nights like these, dancing in the flickering light of the torches, you feel his eyes on you, watching every graceful twirl and dip, and you cannot wait for the whole ordeal to end because you’re so ready to get him alone, to tease him like you always do, whisper in his ear as the two of you walk the castle’s silent corridors, listen to the low rumble of his voice—

You want him. That’s all. You want him, and it hurts. There is an ache deep in your core that you can’t do anything to cure, nothing _proper_ anyway. 

When the celebration does finally come to an end, the other nobles and royals who are staying in the castle retire to their chambers while those from the village return to their homes. The musicians pack their instruments, the feast and wine is put away, and you're left to bid all of your goodbyes and return to your own bedroom only to be caught by the hand as you try to enter. 

"Come with me." 

Reiner's eyes are alight with what could either be excitement or mischief—you can't quite tell—but you follow him anyway, letting him lead you up a spiral staircase, higher and higher until you're walking outside on the castle's pinnacle. 

"What are we—"

He motions to the far side of the tower, and you see a lone man sitting with lute propped on one thigh, grinning at you as he gives the instrument a strum. 

You look back to Reiner who's staring at you, mouth pulled up into an uncharacteristically self-conscious smile. 

"What is this?" You ask, your voice coming out much calmer than you expected considering there are _birds_ in your stomach, a whole flock of them eager to escape, to get away from the violent pounding of your heart. 

"I just…" Reiner bites his lip, still smiling around it, then shrugs his broad shoulders. "I just wanted a dance."

His honesty cuts you deeper than any blade could. You don't have words to express what you're feeling, so all you do is step closer and lock your arms around his neck. 

Large hands encircle your waist at the same time the musician begins to play a soft tune, and like that, you move together, for a few short moments or perhaps long eons, so close but still too far. Reiner is staring down at you, and once you meet his gaze, you can't bring yourself to break it. There's emotion swirling within that deep amber, so much it might suffocate you. His face is close to yours, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath over your mouth, and then…

A simple brush of his lips over yours, so soft you don't know if it happened at all. Your eyes go wide, and you stop swaying, just gazing up at Reiner who looks just as surprised himself as he begins to splutter, "I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

Your hands find the back of his neck, and you tug him down toward you as you raise to your toes, firmly slotting your lips against his. He presses in close, fingers splaying over the small of your back as he sucks in a sharp breath through his nose. There is an even give and take between the two of you, mouths molded together as the kiss deepens. Reiner's tongue swipes over your lower lip, and you let out a very tiny whimper, body thrumming with want and need and love and fear. You can feel his desperation too, his hands wandering to touch every part of you he can reach, like he thinks… 

Like he thinks this will be the only chance he'll get. 

Reiner breaks the kiss only to trail more down your jaw, your neck, gentle enough to tickle had you not been so heated, but you are—god, you're on _fire_. He walks you backward to hold you against the stone wall that circles the tower, grunts against your skin when you grind your hips into his. 

The musician is still playing, a tune just as soft and pleasant as the one he started with, and it seems so out of place because you feel like it should be faster, frantic, like your hitching breath and racing heart. Reiner shoves his thigh between your legs, the skirt of your dress loose enough to allow the contact, and you rock into it, moaning at the friction. 

He's still too hidden. You want to tear the leather off his body, push his tunic up to expose what you know to be a well defined chest. You'd even rid him of his trousers, drop to your knees and— 

"God, I love you," he groans, canting his hips forward as he fists a hand in your loosely plaited hair, tilting your face up to his again and murmuring into another fierce kiss. "I've always loved you, please let me—"

Even through the thick fog of lust in your brain you know. This can't go any further. 

"Reiner, we can't—I-I love you too, but we can't." 

He pulls back just enough to look at you, lips swollen, eyes heavy. "Why—"

You actually smile, caress his cheek. You're very slowly coming back to your senses, but there's still a tempting warmth filling your gut. 

"Can you imagine if we—if you—" you glance to the musician to see if he's listening, but he seems to be lost in his own melody. "If we continued and conceived a _child?_ My father—the Kingdom…"

"I would have to…" Reiner swallows thickly, then breathes more than speaks— "Inside of you… for that to happen."

Quirking an eyebrow, you show a tiny smirk. Reiner sounds like he's wounded when he drops his head to your shoulder and asks, "Why would you even put that idea in my _head?"_ He places more chaste kisses on the exposed skin of your neck. "I'll never be able to stop thinking about it now." 

You huff out a laugh then lightly push on his chest to get him to back up. Reiner sighs and lets his hands drop to yours, holding them like they’re something precious. You’re about to tell him again— _we can’t_ —but he already understands. 

“I know. I’m not right for you, and I’m definitely not a prince—”

“You behave much better than any prince I’ve met…”

The laugh that rolls through Reiner is bitter, sad. “At least I got a small taste,” he muses, and your face heats all over again.

You pull him in for another long kiss, the last you’ll share, then you slip out of his grip and leave him standing alone on the flagstone while you descend the tower stairs, wondering if throwing yourself down them will hurt less than the pain in your heart.

♔

Deep panic breaks out across the kingdom when thick black smoke rises over the horizon.

King Erwin immediately sends a small army of his men to investigate, assuming an enemy set fire to a far village, but after three days of gray spreading through the sky, one of the soldiers returns, shaking and looking like he’s stared death itself in the face.

“I’ve never seen… Your Majesty, it…” The young man can barely articulate his thoughts, but one word comes out clear as day: _“Dragon.”_

Reiner is there, standing next to Sir Miche who stiffens and looks to King Erwin.

“A dragon?” There hasn’t been a sighting for over a century. At this point, the flying beasts are no more than exciting bedtime stories for small children. “Are you sure?”

The soldier nods frantically. “We neared the village, and—and it flew overhead. It’s wings… King Erwin, everyone is dead. All the men…”

Somehow, the king manages to stay calm, simply setting his jaw and taking a deep breath. Then he nods and catches both Sir Miche and Reiner in a deep stare. “You two—we should discuss this somewhere private.”

They both dutifully follow their leader back into the castle, leaving the shaken soldier to be taken care of by a couple of servants. Reiner assumes it will just be the three of them, maybe joined by King Erwin’s guard. He does not expect for you to slip into the large meeting room, though he should have. You will eventually become Queen, after all.

King Erwin goes over the vague picture, making assumptions on what little information he has. It isn’t the first time he’s had to do this, but it is the first time he’s had to face a dragon.

“Our main concern are the villages here and here,” he points to the drawn map on his desk. “We can assume the fields of Ragako are already lost. It’s probably where most of the smoke is coming from. Because of that, though, I think it would be unwise to send another army.”

Everyone agrees, but nobody looks happy about it. “I would go myself but—”

“All due respect, your highness,” Levi interrupts, steel gaze deadly serious. “I’ll break your legs before I let you fight a dragon.”

Reiner tries to hide his snort, eyes flicking up to meet yours on the other side of the table. You shake your head, also amused, and Reiner takes in your image, commits it to memory.

Because it’s been some time since he’s seen you—weeks, and even longer before that. Reiner’s training has only increased in the last year, but he’s so close to knighthood, he can almost taste it. He hopes it will all be worth it, to finally be seen as something other than a commoner, but even then, he knows something will always be missing.

The two of you only ever shared that one dance and those few kisses, and neither of you have brought either up since. That doesn’t mean the feelings have gone away, though. The few times you _have_ been in the same room with Reiner, the tension isn’t thick as much as the sorrow is. You share bittersweet glances and sad little smiles, both of you thinking about what could have been—if only he were born royal or you of common blood.

Surprisingly, you still have not wed another, though Reiner has no doubt your father is pushing you to do so. Each year that passes worries him more. The king isn’t old—middle aged and strong as ever, but there are many, many things that can take a person from this realm, and King Erwin obviously wants his land to stay in good hands when it’s finally his time.

“That won’t be necessary, Levi,” King Erwin chuckles. “But thank you for your concern.” The raven-haired guard just rolls his eyes. “Now, being that I can’t do this myself, we need to find a way to bring in volunteers. I wouldn’t feel comfortable just ordering some poor soul to venture out on his own.” He looks to Sir Miche first. “What would it take to convince someone to fight a dragon?”

The knight shrugs his wide shoulders. “Insurance, maybe—make sure their family will be well taken care of.”

“Money,” Levi adds. “People are selfish. They desire superficial things above all else.”

Reiner’s gaze is trained on the map as the room falls silent. His mind is busy with thoughts, motivations. What would make him… 

He raises his head and meets your eyes again, so beautiful even when painted with worry. You bite your bottom lip, toy with the hair at the end of your braid, and Reiner just sighs.

When he looks back to King Erwin, he finds those striking blue eyes bright with new understanding, like he’s just had an epiphany.

The following morning, he releases a proclamation, sending messengers to all the nearby villages to let everyone know that whoever is capable of slaying the dragon will have your hand in marriage and the right to the throne.

Reiner reads the parchment over and over and over again, fingers tracing over the ink until it’s hardly legible. Your hand…

After preparing his horse, Reiner slips into the castle, walking the path he knows well until he’s knocking lightly on your chamber door. It’s very late, and when you answer, you’re in your night clothes and rubbing sleepy eyes, muttering about, “Historia what could you possibly—” until you actually look and see who it is that’s woken you up.

“Reiner—what are you doing here?”

He steps forward and takes you in his arms then kisses you in a way he hopes conveys every one of his emotions—every bit of love and longing, of fear and heartbreak.

“Mm, Reiner—”

He breathes against you, tells you with as much conviction as he can, “When I come back, I’m marrying you,” then tears himself away and disappears into the hallway, gritting his teeth as he hears you calling for him.

Even in the darkened night, Reiner can still see the smoke in the sky. The fires are still burning in the distance, calling to him. He rides toward them, both his throat and eyes stinging the closer he gets, and as the morning rays meet the sky on the second day of his journey, Reiner thinks his world is on fire. Flames the same color as the sunrise dance over the ruins of the village, what was once grass nothing more than ash under his horse’s hooves.

He dismounts at the edge of the destruction, heart in his throat as he squints through the smoke, up to the sky to see if there’s any sign of wings, and when there are none, Reiner cautiously moves forward through the debris, through the _corpses_. 

He has his long sword, a healing drought Hange made him some time ago, and a magic salve for cuts and burns. Other than those, though, he’s on his own. 

It’s on the far side of the smoldering village that Reiner finally sees it, and not even all of it at first—just one massive clawed foot, bigger than any of the huts that once stood here. Its scales are a vibrant red— _my blood will blend right in_ , he thinks to himself—and glittering in the morning sun. They’re an armor much thicker than his own and will be hard to penetrate. The beast will only have a few weak spots, all too close to its mouth for Reiner’s comfort, but then, what did he truly expect?

Did he actually think he would get out of this alive? Was this really to prove himself to you and the king, or was it a dramatic suicide attempt to get rid of his pain?

He curses himself as he grips his sword tighter, rounding the corner to get his first full look at the dragon, and his blood runs cold. It’s colossal, too large for one man to fight, and yet—

He is here for you. He makes the decision right there. Even if he dies killing the monster, at least you won’t have to worry about the safety of your people anymore. You’ll have a safe kingdom to rule over with whoever is lucky enough to have you, and Reiner will go down as a hero. Maybe you’ll even cry for him. 

The dragon is laying curled up like a damned mongrel, but as soon as it cracks a vivid green eye open and catches sight of Reiner, it’s moving—up on four legs and dashing toward him. Reiner feels tiny as he runs, blood pounding in his ears, mind completely blank other than the thought _‘I have to make this quick’_. As soon as the beast starts flying, he’ll be done for. He has to find a way…

Reiner can feel heat close behind him, chances a look over his shoulder to see orange flames and makes a split-second decision to drop to the ground. On his belly, the dragon actually ambles over him, allowing Reiner to get back to his feet just in time to swing his leg over its tail. 

He climbs from there, not sure if the dragon can even feel his weight through the scales, but it’s still breathing fire, lighting up everything that even can be, its huge head turning back and forth as if looking for him. When Reiner reaches the middle of its back on hands and knees, still clutching his sword, the wings on either side of him begin beating, and Reiner is lifted into the air.

He curses, sliding to one side dangerously before finding traction under his boot and climbing closer to the dragon’s head. His plan is to go for its eyes. It won’t kill it, but maybe if it’s blind, Reiner will have an easier time fighting it. 

Grabbing hold of a horn the size of his leg, Reiner hoists himself up to the monster’s head, and that’s what gets its attention. A truly horrific sound leaves the dragon, fire pouring from what Reiner realizes are actually its nostrils rather than its mouth, and then he’s nearly shaken from his perch. His hand slips, and Reiner slides down to the dragon’s snout with a loud swear, nearly eye to eye with the beast now. This could be his chance. This could be—

Another rough twist of its neck has Reiner falling again, and he swears his life flashes before his eyes as the beast opens its mouth to catch him in it. An excruciating pain radiates up Reiner’s calf as it’s impaled on a sharp tooth, and he watches as the darkness closes in, stares at the roof the monster’s mouth as its lower jaw closes, and then—

Reiner rips his leg from where it’s been pierced, hauls himself further back on the dragon’s huge, steaming tongue, then thrusts his sword upward as hard as he can. It penetrates through flesh and bone, lodging itself in what Reiner hopes is the dragon’s brain. He obviously hit something vital judging by the way he suddenly drops, losing his footing and falling straight out of the monster’s open mouth.

Hitting the ground with a painful thud, Reiner just barely turns his head fast enough to see the dragon crash down next to him, one of its feet just a finger’s width away. Dust and ash fill the air, and Reiner chokes on it. Lungs already aching from exertion, chest sore from his violent heart, and his leg—its bleeding profusely, but the tooth didn’t pierce all the way through at least. When he’s able to, Reiner uses a strap from his armor to tie it off, then simply lies back. 

The dragon is motionless beside him, no sign of breathing or twitching. It’s dead. He killed it. _Reiner_ killed it. That means…

With renewed vigor, Reiner clambers back up and limps over to the beast. He can clearly see the hilt of his sword shining in its mouth, but it takes a fair amount of tugging and jostling to rip it free. The thing is covered in blood and other matter, but it isn’t dulled at all, perfect considering Reiner uses it to pry a scale from the dragon and saw one of its horns off. 

Two large tokens tucked under his arm and his blade in the opposite hand, Reiner slowly makes his way back to his horse.

♔♕

You’re on the pinnacle tower when you see the lone figure approaching on horseback, slow to trot but still making its way to the castle gate. Even from such a distance, you can make out who it is, and a sob immediately bubbles from your chest as you hurry to run down the stairs and through the corridors. You nearly knock over several people, one being your father who tries to stop you, but you just shout, “He’s back,” causing the man to join you in your sprint.

You both meet Reiner just before the castle grounds, panting and covered in dust but still looking much better than _he_ does. His handsome face is covered in ash and speckled with blood. His hands are shaking at his reins, and one of his legs is tied just below the knee.

“Saddle-bag,” is the only thing he says, his voice low and breaking. He looks like he could fall off his horse at any moment, but still, his tired gaze is trained on you, and he even manages a weak smile. “I did it.”

You sniffle, tears of joy and relief streaming down your face. Reiner’s back. He’s alive. And, he slayed the dragon.

Your father checks the bag on the side of the horse, procures a shiny red scale and a twisted horn then looks up at Reiner in wonder.

“You actually…” He can’t even finish.

Reiner seems to understand. “I actually,” he chuckles lightly. “Now please, _please_ let me marry your daughter.”

Laughing jovially, your father nods and takes the reins from Reiner, leading his horse toward the stables and allowing the younger man to lean forward and relax.

You take Reiner’s dirty hand, squeezing it tightly as you walk beside him. Your heart is so full. You cannot believe…

When he came to your room those few nights before, you thought surely that was the last time you’d ever see him, that he would die fighting that monster. But here he is, fingers tight around yours despite his tired state, staring at you through half-lidded eyes with so much love, it makes your head spin.

Reiner is put in one of the guest chambers, and your father calls on Hange to look at him and heal whatever injuries he might have. You stay by his side the entire time, leaving only when one of the servants comes to help wash him. When you return, he's sleeping peacefully in a bed much larger than he’s probably used to. He’ll get used to the luxury, though. When he’s king.

When Reiner wakes, he’s alone in an unfamiliar room, covered in plush blankets, and feeling much better than he has in ages. For once, his muscles aren’t sore, and when he moves his injured leg, he’s surprised to find it doesn’t hurt at all. Upon a closer look, he sees it’s entirely healed save for the soft, pink scar left behind by the dragon’s tooth.

The dragon. The one he slayed. The one that earned him the right to your hand…

He grins as he falls back on his pillows, can’t help it. It had been a hellish fight, but Reiner knows it was well worth it.

Bertholdt finds him first, eyes wide with concern as he sweats and babbles about how _“inconsiderate”_ it had been for Reiner to _“just leave like that! What if you had died?”_

Then Annie comes in, throwing fresh clothes at him then mumbling a cold but genuine _“congratulations”_ before leaving.

Reiner changes quickly, pulls on his newly cleaned boots, then steps out of the chamber. The corridor is empty, but he can already hear joyous laughter and chatter echoing all the way from the dining hall, and it grows into an uproar when he steps in.

Both familiar and unfamiliar faces shout for him, goblets being raised in the air with drink sloshing over the rims.

You’re seated on one side of your father, but the other chair next to him is vacant, and when King Erwin motions to it with a smile, Reiner beams. If his chest is a little more puffed out than usual, nobody says anything. 

Throughout the early meal, Reiner is lauded and celebrated, and despite always being confident in himself, it’s strange to get so many compliments—about his bravery, his courage, his loyalty to the crown. He doesn’t know how to tell the others that he did it all for you. It’s always been for you.

You’re beautiful as you converse, only adding to the chorus of praises—“He’s always been like that,” you tell the guests. “Since we were little.” And, the smile you’re wearing when you lean over to look at him is the most gorgeous Reiner’s ever seen, wide and lopsided, no hiding or trying to remain proper in front of your guests, just pure joy.

There is no time to be wasted. Arrangements for the wedding are made, and a few messengers are sent out to spread the good news. The celebration is to be held the following evening, and everyone is invited. Servants are told to ready the gardens, but you stop them, instead telling them you’d like to hold the ceremony in the tulip fields, the ones you and Reiner have spent so much time walking and riding. “It’s only fitting,” you tell them, and Reiner winks at you from across the table, relishing in the way it makes you bite your lip.

He can do that now. And in one more day, he’ll be able to do many other things.

Historia helps bathe you in the morning, and the white dress she helps you into afterward is beautiful, tailored to fit your body perfectly. It’s tight around your chest and cinches further at your waist, flowing outward over your hips and legs. You pull on dainty sandals, then situate a crown of flowers on your plaited hair, and like that, you make your way to the colorful fields to the north of the castle.

A large group is already there—nobles and villagers, many of the young men you rejected before as well as their families. This is something the whole kingdom and even others can celebrate. The Eldian Princess is finally getting married, and to the country’s new savior.

Reiner stands up straight like the soldier he is, wearing formal robes and a symbolic flower crown of his own. He looks so different from how you’ve always seen him, but it isn’t bad. In fact, it’s very fitting. With his strong features, unmatched bravery and boldness, he’s every bit as fit to be king as your father is.

The ceremony is performed by a holy man, walking you and Reiner both through vows and specific recitations. Neither of you can stop smiling, even through your tears, and even through the kiss you share at the end.

The air is full of cheers, claps, flowers, and rice, and as you stand, held close to Reiner, you think that this is the happiest you’ve ever been.

The feast that follows is difficult to get through. Yes, it’s all in your and Reiner’s honor, but there is not a single part of you that wants to be sitting among the many guests. You would much rather be locked away in a bedchamber, alone with your _husband_.

Reiner is having the same problem sitting next to you at the head of the table. He has a fork in one hand, listening to the Duke across from him regal everyone with a story of battle, but Reiner’s other hand is under the table where no one can see, hot on your thigh even through your pretty wedding gown. 

Every minute stretches into eternity, whether it’s spent eating and drinking or talking with guests. Reiner shakes too many hands to count, gets slapped on the back until he thinks it might bruise, all while the sun moves in the sky. You stay by his side save for the few times you dance with the little village girls, but that’s when Reiner is watching you closest, the way your body moves without a care in the world, graceful as you hop and twirl and dip. It’s the most carefree Reiner has seen you in ages. He can’t wait to make you let go even further.

It’s Bertholdt who saves the both of you. Reiner is so close to sneaking you out of the dining hall when the talkative Duke finds him again, but before he can start on a new tangent, the tall guard slips between him and Reiner, redirecting the conversation and smiling knowingly when Reiner mouths a very clear _thank you_.

You dash down the corridors, fingers intertwined, footsteps echoing loudly just like your breathless laughs. Reiner all but shoves you into the room he’s been staying in, closing the door then turning swiftly and taking your face in his hands. 

His lips are hot against yours, tasting faintly of wine but harsh with desperation. Your fingers clutch at the formal cloak around his shoulders for just a moment before you move to untie the knot sitting just over the notch of his sternum. You push the heavy material from him, letting it pool around his feet, and then you’re connected at the mouths once again. Reiner pulls at the dainty little bow at your waist, one more for decoration than anything, then grumbles into you, “If you don’t get rid of this dress, so help me—”

“Mm, patience is a virtue, my love,” you hum teasingly.

Reiner growls, “I’ve been patient for nearly ten years—” His hands travel down to squeeze your backside, and you let out a surprised squeal. “—Now hurry up.”

Together you’re able to unlace and untie the few ribbons that need to be, then Reiner is kneeling down, taking the hem of your skirt in his hands, and you hold your breath as he begins to lift it—over your legs, your waist, your torso, your head, until it’s all the way off and he’s tossing it to the ground over his discarded cloak. You’re still in underclothes, still covered, but Reiner sucks in a deep breath anyway, gaze roaming over any skin he hasn’t yet laid eyes on before you lose yourselves in another kiss. 

Time is warped here. Reiner’s hands move quickly to undress you, but it still feels like he’s taking too long. He wonders if you’re the same, almost frantically pushing his tunic up until he has to pause his own ministrations in order to pull it over his head. 

When both of you are completely bare, you take the time to just stare, mouths slightly open, eyes roaming shamelessly over the bodies you’ve both lusted after for years now. Reiner is the first to move, stepping forward again and cupping your face first before sliding down to your shoulders then your breasts. You bite your lip, having trouble keeping eye contact as he appreciates the sight before him. He thumbs both of your nipples at the same time, and still standing, you let your head roll back and moan quietly. 

Swearing breathlessly, Reiner releases his hold for just a moment only to pick you up entirely and walk over to the large, decorated bed. You giggle as he tosses you onto it, immediately covering your body with his as he hovers over you. 

His mouth is warm as he kisses you, first catching yours and sucking on your lower lip, then slowly descending. He nibbles on your neck, biting gently then laving his tongue over what will soon be dark marks. He runs his nose along your breastbone, turning his face to lavish attention on one of your pebbled nipples, and you let out another cry, warmth immediately pooling between your legs at the simple stimulation. 

You’ve never felt anything like it. It isn’t overwhelming, but it still sends hot waves down your spine. Reiner sucks on the little bud for a few moments before moving to the other, and your hands eventually find purchase in his hair. 

He smiles around your flesh, gently nipping and delighting in the sound you make. You feel so good beneath him, writhing, rocking your hips in a not-so-subtle attempt to get friction where you need it most. Giving your nipple one last swirl of his tongue, Reiner lets go then continues his descent. 

Your skin is supple under his hands, too soft for his callouses, but he can be gentle. He will be. This will be your first time taking another man, and the thought of it being Reiner, of him being the _only_ one to ever have… 

His blood runs hot, threatening to burn him alive as he continues to litter your body with all his affections. He can’t rush this, though. You deserve to be worshiped. It’s what he’s wanted this whole time. 

“Reiner—” Your breath hitches when his fingertips just barely brush over your sex. “Th-there should be oil…”

He smirks, places a soft kiss right between your hipbones. “I don’t want it.” He wants to be able to feel you purely, taste your true essence without any scented or flavored oil to get in the way. 

This worries you, and you sit up on your elbows at the same time Reiner moves to lay between your legs. “Won’t it hurt?”

He lifts your left calf to rest over his shoulder, lips trailing over the inside of your knee as he tells you, “I’ll make sure it doesn’t, Princess.”

You feel very vulnerable, completely on display for him, but then again, so is he. And he’s a work of art, truly. Shoulders and chest broad and spreading your legs as he resituates himself between them, his tanned skin perfectly imperfect with scars he’s collected over the years. All of his hair is light blond, a thin trail leading downward from his naval as if guiding your eyes to what’s below. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of Reiner’s cock, jutting upward with a very subtle curve. He’s thick, long, flushed at the head, and translucent fluid is dripping from his tip. It makes you lick your lips. He’s intimidating—you’ve never had anything that size (or close to that size) inside of you—but you trust him. 

“Lie back,” he tells you, and you do, feeling his hands inch up the backs of your thighs. Warm breath ghosts over them, lips tracing sensitive skin until he stops. His thumb rubs back and forth over a patch of flesh you know very well, a thin, raised line that starts at your inner thigh and wraps around to the back of it. It isn’t thick, is barely noticeable to anyone who doesn’t know to look, but Reiner…

“Is this…?”

You still remember that day so clearly, jumping from his horse without a care in the world only to get taken—the first time Reiner _saved_ you. 

“It is.”

He sighs into you, mouth moving over the scar from his old dagger, and the kiss he places there brings tears to your eyes for some reason. He would always be a part of you—married or not, you would have carried a piece of Reiner with you everywhere you went. 

“Bratty princess, never doing as she was told,” Reiner’s rumbling voice pulls you from your head, and you laugh, tugging gently at his hair. 

“Grumpy guard, never letting me have my fun.”

He glances up from between your legs, and the glimmer in his eyes makes your stomach flip. “Oh, I’ll let you have your fun. Just like I’ll have mine.”

He punctuates this with a lick, one long stroke of his tongue dipping between your folds. Reiner groans at the taste—he’s wanted it for so long—and the way you arch your back and cry out has him throbbing. Your hands drop from his head to the blankets, fisting them tightly as Reiner continues. He teases you first, shuddering at every whimper and moan and plea that falls from your beautiful lips. 

When he gently sucks at your swelling lips, you gasp. When he spreads you open and toys with that little bundle, you curse. And, when he licks into your entrance, hot and dripping just for him, you _say his name_. Like a prayer, like a hymn, on the breath of a whisper, sounding broken and fixed at the same time. 

Reiner devours you, hungry for every bit of flesh he can taste, thirsty for every drop that leaks from you. His face his covered in you, he knows, and you’ll no doubt have marks on the inside of your thighs from his stubble, but all you do is pant and beg him, _“Please, please, more, Reiner.”_

He’s careful sliding his first finger into you, allows you to stretch around him and watches your face for any sign of pain. You aren’t in pain, though—you’re in awe—eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling as your jaw drops. He can feel your muscles clench around him, walls clinging to his digits as he slowly pumps in and out. 

“Oh… Oh, Gods…”

He studies you as he twists his wrist and rubs at a specific spongy part inside of you, grins sideways when you buck and curse again. 

“Not very ladylike to say things like that, Princess.”

“I don’t care,” you whine. “Just please, keep—keep doing—” Reiner taps the spot again and you break into what almost sound like sobs. His own gut is tight with arousal, and he leans down to suck at your sensitive little bundle as he works a second finger inside you. You take it without a problem, rock your hips to meet the thrust of his hand. Fluid is leaking down his wrist and arm, and the thought that it will soon be coating his cock makes him twitch in anticipation. 

You’re begging again, nearly inarticulate as you reach down to tug at his hair. “I’m ready,” you sound like you’ve been running. “Please, I’m ready. I want you—”

Reiner hums against you, vibrations making your thighs spasm around his head. “You want me?” He questions lowly, and the rustle of blankets above signal your frantic nod. “All of me?”

“All of you.”

He gives you a final lick then pulls back, sitting up on his knees and holding your gaze as he sucks his own fingers clean of your juices. Your chest is heaving as you watch him, legs still wide open. Gripping your thighs tightly, Reiner tugs you to meet him then takes hold of his cock, groaning while pumping himself a few times. He teases your entrance with his tip, smirking at the way your breath hitches and leans forward to kiss you while he slowly begins sliding in. 

Reiner sounds wrecked as he pushes into your heat, gasping against your lips. The stretch you feel is at the border of pleasure and pain, but you welcome it, welcome _him_. He’s careful, takes his time, reaching down to play with you while he paces himself. 

“Open up for me, Princess, that’s it.”

Your title is like a term of endearment coming from him. It’s what he’s always called you, what he’s always been told to call you, but now, in this context, it sets you ablaze. 

You feel Reiner’s tip hit deep inside of you, and his head lolls to the side—“Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long—” before he sinks his teeth into your neck.

Something swells in your chest, heavy and suffocating but also familiar and tender. You’re so in love—it’s painful—and you hold Reiner tightly as he begins slowly rocking into you, a hand around the back of his head and the other curled over his shoulder. He’s as close as he can be, and it’s still too far away. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, using him as leverage to pull yourself up into each thrust, and eventually allow him to straighten a bit. He peers down at you with those devastating amber eyes, sweat and _you_ dripping from his chin as he increases his pace. 

Your body sucks him in every time he pulls out, sounding wet and obscene and making you even hotter. Fire licks at your skin when he reaches down to where the two of you are joined, wetting his fingers and teasing you again so that your walls flutter around him. Reiner groans, gently flicking your small bud as his cock slides over that place inside you that makes stars burst behind your eyes. It feels like you’re melting, hot slick dripping from you with every thrust.

Reiner hisses as your fingernails dig into his shoulders, but it only adds to the overall pleasurable sensation he’s feeling. He thinks he might be dreaming, pressed nestled inside of you as you moan and cry and come apart beneath him. Your muscles tense and relax over and over, skin glistening in the firelight and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You’re getting close, and so is he. He’s waited so long, pined for so long, and you have, too. You have—

 _“Holy_ —Reiner—”

He watches your face, the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, mouth open in a silent scream. You pulse around him, a rhythmic clenching as Reiner continues to thrust, lets you ride it out until he’s groaning in your ear, “Remember—fuck—remember that night on the tower…”

You slurp back drool before answering in a thick voice, _“Yesss.”_

“You were worried about what would happen—” Reiner pins your hips down as he snaps his own forward relentlessly. 

“I’m not worried anym- _more_ ,” you slur, your last word breaking as you whine at how sensitive you’ve become. “I’m not—oh, please—”

Everything in Reiner tightens then releases, a flood of endorphins and emotion and _seed_ —thick ropes of cum shooting from his cock and painting your walls as he continues to fuck it all deeper into you. He moves until he’s drained and dry, panting above you as you gaze up at him with nothing but adoration. 

Reiner’s arms are weak, and he comes close to collapsing right on top of you, but he’s able to sit back on his knees before they give out, staying inside you for a moment longer as he appreciates what you both look like as one. Your lips are puffy around him, Reiner’s seed leaking out around his cock, and he very gently uses a thumb to stop it and push the white back in, causing both of you to let out quiet noises of both interest and fatigue. 

“So beautiful,” Reiner murmurs, finally raising his gaze to meet yours. You’re absolutely spent, debauched—hair a mess, lips swollen, covered in loving bruises, and yet you still smile. “You’ve always been…” 

Reiner slowly pulls out only to replace his length with a finger. You arch into it, a pitiful moan breaking on your lips, but it’s silenced when Reiner leans over and kisses you. “My Queen,” he murmurs.

You sigh happily, head still swimming with lust and love. Your body is tired, but your heart is so alive with joy for the present and hope for the future.

“My King.”


End file.
